The Sick Agents
by perwinkle27
Summary: Two ficlets that I wrote in response to prompts. The first one answers "Breakfast in Bed" and the second is "A Surprise Pulled on Napoleon."
1. The Sick Agent

The Sick Agent

by Periwinkle

It was hard being sick in a strange country. Illya didn't really know anyone to help him, so he just crawled into bed after putting a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand and prepared to tough it out. Before closing his eyes he picked up the phone and called Headquarters, informing them that he was ill and wouldn't be in today.

He was hungry, but going to the kitchen for food was too much of an effort.

He lay there groggy, half-awake, until he heard a knock at the door. He knew that knock. It was the coded one he and his new partner had established between the two of them. Maybe if he just laid quietly in bed, Solo would go away, because at the moment, he really wasn't up to crawling to the door.

Except that he heard Solo's voice, yelling through the door. "Illya, are you all right? Do you need help?"

Illya pulled his pillow over his head to drown the sound out. Unfortunately, Napoleon's voice still penetrated and the next words caused Illya to sit up in a hurry. "Illya, if you can hear me, I'm going downstairs to get the Super. I'll have him let me in."

Illya almost fell out of bed in his attempt to scramble to the door. "No, wait, Napoleon! I'm coming."

He half-crawled, half-slid to the door and then, reaching up to grab the handle, levered himself up. It took him a few moments to work the locks - his brain wasn't as sharp as he would like it to be.

Napoleon started to smile at him, then frowned. "You look like Hell. You should be in bed."

The look Illya gave him was speaking. "I was in bed until some pushy American decided to disrupt my morning."

Napoleon spread his hands. One of them, Illya noted, held a bag. "What can I say, partner? I was concerned about you."

"Remind me when I'm better to introduce you to this new device. It's called a 'telephone'. Or to another one, called a 'communicator'." While he was speaking, Napoleon had begun herding him towards his bedroom.

Napoleon lifted the covers on the bed for Illya to slide in. "I would have, but then I couldn't bring this, could I?"

"This? Are you talking about your ego?"

Napoleon lightly punched Illya's cheek, then waved his parcel in front of Illya's face.

Illya took a better look at the bag. Smells were wafting out of it. Bakery smells, and was that, thank God, tea? Illya gave Napoleon a contrite look. "I apologize. Really."

The other man beamed at him. "We may not have been partners long, but I know you hate to miss meals. Plus, I also know how hard it is to be sick alone." Napoleon opened the bag and began arranging the food on the nightstand. "So I brought you breakfast in bed."

This partnership just might work out, Illya thought to himself as he reached for a doughnut.


	2. The Cold

**The Cold (R)**

By Periwinkle

Illya opened Napoleon's door for him, then stalked into the apartment, his back rigid and smoke practically rising from his blond hair. Napoleon sighed, and opened his mouth to apologize for whatever he'd done, but was distracted by a series of chest-racking, hacking coughs. He pulled out his handkerchief, wiped and blew his nose and tried to remember what he had been doing before the cough attacked.

His attention was caught by Illya. "Napoleon, go to bed. Your cough is getting much worse."

"Gee, I thought I debbing bedder at it. It seems to be finely-duned now. I've practiced enough."

Illya rolled his eyes, raised his arm and pointed at Napoleon's bedroom.

"I kewd use a liddle lobe and affection, you dnow."

"In a minute. I'm going to make you something to drink."

Napoleon staggered into his room, managed to get his pajamas on, and fell onto his bed. The one advantage, he decided, of being sick was that it would make Illya forget his pique and start giving him a little tender love and care. Sadly, he didn't feel up to doing anything else, but he loved having Illya near him at all times.

The man in question came into the room, bearing a glass with a slightly cloudy liquid. As Napoleon raised it to his lips, he caught a slight odor of something, but with his stuffy nose he couldn't tell what it was. It brought back memories of his childhood for some reason.

He took a hearty sip, then the taste hit him and he nearly spit the liquid all over the bedspread. "Wad in Dob's nabe is dis?"

"Cod liver oil, Napoleon," Illya replied. Napoleon glared at him, but his partner looked positively angelic. At least, thought the ailing man, he isn't mad anymore, and he made room on the bed for Illya to sit by him.

* * *

**Cod Liver Oil - Yuck**

_by Steven West_

_"I'm feeling very sick._

_Ill, chills, no thrills."_

_Mom knows best._

_Mom says,_

_"Time for your COD LIVER OIL!"_

_And I say,_

_"NO! NO! NO!"_

_"All of a sudden_

_I'm feeling much better._

_It must be the weather._

_You've cured me."_

_But mom says,_

_"You look ill._

_You look sick._

_Time to take_

_ The Cod Liver Oil quick."_

_ And I say,_

_ "NO! NO! NO!"_

_ "My lips are sealed._

_ I'd rather die_

_ Then drink that junk._

_ And that's no lie."_

_ But mom says,_

_ "It's beneficial._

_ It's great._

_ Omega 3_

_ Get that straight."_

_ And I say,_

_ "NO! NO! NO!"_

_And mouth still open_

_Wouldn't you know_

_She poured it in my mouth._

_"Look out below._

_Now my dear sweet son_

_You'll feel much better."_

_But the cod liver oil_

_Tasted like worn out leather._

_Eventually, I got over my cold._

_I felt real healthy and it showed._

_As for cod liver oil,_

_All I can say,_

_"Don't bring it back._

_Take it away._

_I'd rather be sick_

_Then drink that stuff again._

_Next time just give it_

_To a bully named Ben._

_Let Ben drink this potion from hell._

_Its time that somebody rang his bell."_


End file.
